Le Petite Merle
by megfiregoddess
Summary: After Desmond escapes with Lucy, the scientists at Abstergo find another Assassin to force into the Animus but they won't find Merle as cooperative as Desmond.
1. The Black Bird

Looking over the city she watched the lights flicker like a million independent flames. The black hood obscured her green eyes but they still seemed to glow in the shadow. A single lock of straight auburn hair fell into her left eye but the rest was pulled tightly back under the hood. The hood itself was attached to a long black trench coat that was uncharacteristic for the hot city of Los Angeles. Underneath it was a form-fitting, neck high, white tank top. Black jeans encased her legs to her knee where a pair of soft black leather boots that were folded down at the top. Inside the boot was a single long thin blade. On her right wrist was an unseen leather gauntlet which held a hidden blade that was activated by a pressure on the top of her hand. When she flicked her hand up, the blade would deploy. In her left coat pocket was a snub-nose .38 that was filled with 6 different types of rounds. On each had was a black leather glove. Around her neck was the mark of her status. A stylized "A" with wings coming from the bottom. The mark of the Assassin.

Tonight she was on recon but if she got the chance to take out her target she would. Orders be damned.

He left the building below her and she watched him walk down the street. As he passed in front of the building next to Abstergo Industries' Los Angeles Office, she ran and leapt to the adjacent building. The tails of her coat flew out behind her as the wind caught them. She kept her target in sight as she continued to follow him down the streets to his flat a few blocks away.

Slowly she made her way down to his fire escape where she watched his nightly routine, encased in shadows. She stared as he took off his tie, his fancy shoes, and his watch. Then he did something unexpected, he moved toward the window to the fire escape. She had only a moment to scramble onto the roof before he opened the window and leaned out.

He looked out over the city much as she had early from the Abstergo roof. She wished she could see his eyes but from here she could only see his light brown hair. She stared intently, wondering if her target could be thinking of the damage his company was doing to the world. That their search for the pieces of Eden was a foolish quest that would only harm. No, he would never think so rationally. Those Templar fools were incapable of such.

Suddenly a creek sounded behind her, she turned but barely had time to see the figure behind her before a sharp pain stung her in the arm. The sedative effected her immediately but as she begun to fall backwards off the roof, the figure appeared in the light. The face she saw stabbed her straight in the heart a second before she lost consciousness.


	2. Betrayed

She looked down at the dagger in her hand and watched the blood drip off the blade. Her soul felt like it was being torn to pieces. At her feet lay her brother. The boy whom she had played with, fought with, and loved.

"Its alright, Merle. You did the right thing. He betrayed the brotherhood. He tried to kill us all."

Her mind knew he was right. Her heart was slowly dying. The pain was nearly unbearable.

"Merle? Are you alright? Merle…"

She turned to look at the man behind her but then the memory began to disappear and the world began to come back.

Everything that had happened became more real as she tried to open her eyes. At first the light was too bright but she blinked and a white room began to appear around her. She was laying on an uncomfortable table. A screen above her face read "ERROR". She looked around just as a face appeared on the other side of the screen. An all too familiar face. The face of a man she thought had died a long time ago.

"Finally awake Merle?"

The man who had been there when she had killed her brother, "James McCloud."

Shock and anger mixed in her voice as she recognized the symbol on the lapel of his black suit jacket. Abstergo Industries. As recognitioin crossed her face he ran a hand through his black hair with arrogance. His brown eyes were cold and uncaring as they sat deep in his harsh tan face. How could she have ever trusted the man?

"Nice of you to remember. Not that you really could ever forget the night you killed your brother. You just relived it with us."

"You stand with the templars over us?"

He smiled evilly, "I've always stood with them. I was sent by them to secretly infiltrate the Assassin's. Now they need someone with Assassin blood. So naturally, you were the perfect person. After all, your family goes all the way back to the French Revolution."

"What do they want with me?"

"Who knows? Who cares?"

"What makes you think I'll cooperate?"

Another man came into her view. He was older and the evil in his eyes was unhidden.

"Oh, it matters not. We will get what we want from you. If you don't cooperate we'll simply put you an coma and find the answers we want ourselves. Still, as I've told our previous subjects, its quicker and easier if you just cooperate. Now, if you're done. We have some research to finish."

Merle could not come up with an argument so as the machine around her buzzed to life. The world went white and she felt herself disappear into an impossible world.


	3. Jeanne

She found herself looking into the face of a woman with red hair like her but her face was far more determined than Merle's had ever looked.

"Where are you taking me Angelique? I will not move any further until you tell me."

Merle looked to the ceiling, looking for inspiration in the carved stone.

"Jeanne, you have to trust me. You know you cannot face those men on your own. You need my help."

Jeanne looked skeptical. Piercing Angelique's soul with her stare. After a long moment of silence, she waved for Angelique to lead the way.

She turned to continue down the passageway, walking purely from memory as the torch in her hand did not give enough light to see landmarks in the stone. She didn't need them though. Her father had shown her this cave a thousand times. It was a place that was sacred and dangerous. Her father said it was protected by god himself. It was time that the artifact did its part for the country that it lived in. It needed to be revealed, for France.

The tunnel turned sharply and past it was a large cavern that was illuminated by mirrors. The columns and statues that had once stood so beautifully so long ago were now broken and decaying. It was only by navigating the tall broken decorations could one reach the artifact on the other side.

"Jeanne, stay here, I will return in a moment."

"Why the secrets my friend? We've known each other since childhood. Why must you talk in riddles and leave me in such a mysterious place?"

She smiled sadly at her friend, "Everything will be revealed in time."

Then she turned from Jeanne and ran toward a column that was broken near the bottom. She run up the leaning part of the column to a decapitated statue. Than she began jumping from column to column until she reached the other side of the compartment.

On a ledge was a large alter. It was made of black marble with flowing designs carved into the surface. A silver box lay on its top. The box had old French text carved into its sides. She had read the text as a child. It was a story, the story of the ancient king Arthur. Fairy tales from an ancient world now claimed by the English as their own. Yet, from the box, Angelique now knew that Arthur was none other than Artorius Castus, a roman legionnaire.

Slowly she touched the box, touching the secret button her father had showed her. The seal on the lid of the box was broken and Angelique slowly lifted the shinning cover until her treasure was revealed. Inside the box, on a bed of satin was a unearthly looking sword that shinned despite the dim light.

Carefully she lifted it from its resting place and slid it into the black sheath that lay next to the box. She slung the blade over her shoulder and made her way back to Jeanne who still waited patiently. God bless the girl.

Angelique made a final bound from the last broken column and came to land softly in front of Jeanne. Without a word she brought the sword in front of her and removed it from the sheath. Jeanne gasped at the sword.

"What manner of blade is this?"

Angelique smiled, "This Jeanne is the sword of God given to King Arthur in order to protect his land from the Saxons. This is what will save France from the English. I'm giving it to you because I know you are the key Jeanne. You will take it with you to Orleans. There you will find your destiny."

"But Angelique, you cannot give me such a gift that is not yours to give."

"I am its guardian Jeanne, it is up to me who deserves its power."

"What power?"

"The wielder is given strength and genius known only to God. You will know all Jeanne."

"You would give me such strength?"

"Of course Jeanne, for only you have the heart to use it for what it was meant. To defend."

A voice interrupted the memory, "I think that's enough for not Merle. No need to review what we already know."

The world turned white and a moment later, she was staring at the old man's face again. The old French world lost to her.


	4. The Sword

"How interesting. Your ancestor made a grave mistake, giving that sword to Joan of Arc. That's how we acquired it after all."

Merle looked at the doctor through the screen over her eyes. Yet she couldn't think much about what he was saying past the pounding in her head. That is what the Templars wanted. The sword. They wanted the sword they had lost to the Assassins during World War II. Her family were the keepers of it.

As soon as she realized what they were trying to find, she knew she needed to find a way out. The screen slid away and she slid off the table. Standing, she watched the doctor walk around the room. He was talking but she wasn't listening. She was looking at the exits. They opened by key-card and he had one hanging from his jacket. She had to get a hold of that card.

Slowly she moved, walking behind him as he headed for the door. He turned before he pulled out his key-card to open the door. Then she moved quickly.

With one quick move she used her index and middle finger to hit several pressure points. One at the bottom of his neck, one in his back and one in his lower back and two on each shoulder. Each caused temporary paralyzation that sent the man to the floor. She pulled the card from his jacket and slid it across the access panel that opened the door. It beeped and went green. She ran toward it and it slid open moments before an alarm began to blare. She ran, using the key to open door after door. She knew not how to get out of the building but she knew she had to keep going. She had to get out before they used that machine to find out where the sword was. They could not have that sword. It would be devastating if they did.

Suddenly a bunch of guards with night sticks appeared. They tired to stop her but as the first approached she caught his night stick in mid swing, twisted his wrist until it cracked, took the stick and hit him in the helmet with it.

The others fell in similar fashions, they were on the ground before they knew what was happening. She began to run again until she reached another door. This time it would not open. More guards came around the corner and she was trapped between them and the door. Moving forward she taking them down again but there were far too many. In a slip of her guard she was hit in the head with a night stick. Without another chance to recover she was beat again and again until she fell to the floor and blacked out.


End file.
